


A Father Just In Name

by lucdarling



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/pseuds/lucdarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The end of a long day brings up some memories for two of the team.<br/>[WARNING: DISCUSSION OF PAST CHILD ABUSE]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Father Just In Name

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/3266.html?thread=2122178#t2122178) which was inspired by the following dialogue in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang  
>  _Perry: How about you, Harry, did your father love you?  
>  Harry: Ah, sometimes, like when I dressed up like a bottle. How about yours?  
> Perry: Well, he used to beat me in Morse code, so it's possible, but he never actually said the words. _

They’re unwinding from a difficult mission and everyone is coping with it differently. The villain of the hour wasn’t a villain so much as a misguided youth with enough daddy issues to keep a therapist in practice for years. Tony knows how he plans to forget the day.

Bruce disappears into his lab as soon as they’re all through the mansion gates, the door shutting behind him a clear ‘keep out’ signal. Thor makes straight to Jane’s lab on the lower level but his blue eyes are distant; none of the Avengers knew the full story of the Norse God’s family problems but Tony bet there were plenty after living for millennia.

Steve and Natasha head to the gym or the kitchen, somewhere that's not where Tony plans to be is all the genius notices. The woman pulls the super soldier along as soon as it's clear the team isn’t going to be spending the time in their usual post-mission style of celebration, even though the operation was a success and no lives were lost. Natasha puts a hand on Clint’s arm as she passes but doesn’t speak. Steve follows her with quiet steps, covered in sweat and dust; Tony is just glad that the blond hasn’t chosen to impart any words of wisdom about Howard.

Tony takes a seat on the couch, the one that overlooks the windows to Central Park and arranges the bottle of scotch on the table within reaching distance. Clint falls heavily onto the seat next to him and rests his arms on his knees. Tony hands him a tumbler and then pours his own.

They sit together in silence and the alcohol burns warmth down Tony’s throat. It's almost soothing, watching the rain fall and sitting in the rare quiet of the household.

Clint’s the first to speak and he talks to the glass in front of them, doesn’t meet Tony’s eyes. “So, how many issues did today dredge up for you?”

“No more than the usual,” Tony swirls the remaining swallow of amber liquid but doesn't drink it yet. He watches the blue light of the reactor shine prisms through the heavy crystal in his hand.

The marksman scoffs. “Bullshit. You look to Cap like he’s your father reincarnate half the time, searching for his approval like a damn puppy. You really think I’m just gonna buy some line about how this kid and his issues didn’t send you down memory lane?” He downs the rest of his drink before admitting, "Fuck knows I went there and it ain't ever pretty."

Tony offers him the bottle instead of responding about how Clint is plenty quick to look to the other two SHIELD agents of the team for orders if he’s not going off recklessly on his own. Tony isn’t in the mood to fight right now. His arm is heavy with fatigue, exhaustion from the battle so the bottle dips quickly between them and Clint flinches at the sudden action. Tony raises an eyebrow, though he can read between the lines. Clint’s face is still and strange to Tony; the marksman lets out a breath and takes the bottle. Tony doesn’t say a word when Clint drinks straight from it and leaves the empty glass cradled in one hand.

The marksman shrugs before inquiring in a quiet voice, “So, how’d your old man decide to love you?”

Tony takes the bottle back and lets the swallow of scotch hit the back of his throat in a not unpleasant way before he answers. “He liked it when I dressed up as a bottle of his favorite.” Tony takes another pull and passes it back to Clint. “It was better when I wasn’t around though, he liked that best.”

“Yeah,” Clint commiserates. “I learned to make myself scarce pretty quick too. Just me and my brother after I was six, comparing Morse Code marks from his belt.” Tony nods and he knows he’s pathetically grateful, somewhere deep inside himself, that his marks at least, aren’t physical. He doesn’t voice it out loud.

“He said I was his best creation,” Tony admits, voice souring on the last word. “Through a video I didn’t see until I was half-dead. A _creation_ , that’s how he saw me. He couldn’t even tell me to my face.”

“Least you got that much.” Clint finishes off the bottle and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “I didn’t get any words worth remembering. Don't know that I'd want them.” He stands from the couch and takes the few steps forward so he can rest his head against the glass.

Tony thinks that looks like a pretty good idea and he follows suit. Clint and Tony don’t share any more words after that, they just let the cool of the rain-streaked window seep into their skin and listen to the rain fall on the other side. Steve and Natasha return eventually and draw them both away to their rooms.

Tony falls into bed and lets Steve pull the sheets over him. He doesn't feel like moving, thinking, of doing much at all other than sleep. He shuts his eyes and thinks he feels the ghost of lips on his forehead, a voice in his ear not much louder than the rain: “Howard would be proud of you.” Tony doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have the words, but he feels a flush of warmth suffuse him, a rare type of one that’s not from the alcohol and falls into the grip of sleep as Steve slides an arm over him carefully.


End file.
